Dane DeHaan

  • Two Lovers and a Bear (2016)

    Two Lovers and a Bear (2016)

    (On Cable TV, September 2019) After seeing Kim Nguyen’s poetic Le Marais and then his techno-thriller-ish The Hummingbird Project, I was curious as to how a filmmaker could go from one to the other. It turns out that Two Lovers and a Bear holds part of the answer—or, at least, mixes a harsh reality with suspense mechanisms with an oneiric sensibility that occasionally turns the film into something quite different. There is some built-in interest in the premise, which follows two young people madly in love with each other in Canada’s deep, deep north—the kind of arctic-circle north that scares even Canadians that live in the kind of climate that scares Americans. Humans are not meant to live that far north without considerable assistance, and nearly everything there is measured against the imperatives of temperature and distance to the south where it’s not always frozen. Our two titular lovers are played by Dane DeHaan and Tatiana Maslany—it goes without saying that Maslany acts circles around DeHaan, but the climate suits him: he’s not nearly as annoying nor emotionally distant here than in many other movies. As for the bear, well, the bear is an imaginary companion that only speaks to him, not her. When they are convinced that a stalker is threatening her, they strike out southward, getting stuck in a blizzard and eventually discovering an abandoned military base that can act as shelter. But the stalker is as imaginary as the bear—and if it’s not clear enough from the get-go that these are not emotionally healthy characters, they then burn their sole shelter to make a point. The rest of the film barrels toward its tragic but romantic conclusion, with intrusions of the fantastic into reality that, to me, act as a bridge between Nguyen’s earlier work and the somewhat more realistic nature of his latest film. I can’t say that I really enjoyed Two Lovers and a Bear: I didn’t like the characters, the ending, the undisciplined blend of genres. But it did hold my attention, and there were a few moments that were particularly successful. Suddenly, I’m far more interested in Nguyen’s filmography: I can gather a sense of direction from it, and I hope that his next project will keep going even further in that direction.

  • A Cure for Wellness (2016)

    A Cure for Wellness (2016)

    (On Cable TV, November 2017) There are at least two movies in A Cure for Wellness: The first is terrific, and it shows an impressive blending of modern concerns and gothic horror, as a young corporate executive goes to a secluded health retreat in Switzerland where old secrets accumulate in a deliciously over-the-top fashion. It’s the set-up half of the film and it gets increasingly engaging, what with writer/director Gore Verbinski delivering top-notch atmosphere. It’s a frequently beautiful film to gawk at, and there is a precision to the images that confirms his intent to crank up the tension. Seasoned viewers are liable to love it all, especially as known horror signifiers are used to good extent. Sadly, jaded viewers also suspect what comes next: a far less interesting second half in which some mysteries are explained, many are ignored (or dismissed as good-old hallucinations) and the film keeps going well past the two-hour mark. While A Cure for Wellness is narratively conventional, the third act is stuck trying to make sense of the entire film, and doesn’t quite rise up to the challenge. The coda is particularly disappointing, leaving far too many things up in the air. Other inconsistencies annoy. Dane DeHaan is perfectly suited for the unlikable anti-hero of the first half of the film, but he can’t quite make himself or his character sympathetic enough in the second half. Jason Isaacs is fine as the antagonist, but Mia Goth is generally dull as the heroine. Bojan Bazelli’s cinematography remains exceptional throughout, but Justin Haythe’s screenplay is simply a framework. It’s a shame that the film isn’t edited more tightly—there are not reasons why it should be as long as it is, especially given the straightforward script. Still, there’s a lot to like in the film’s best moments, whether it’s an announced nightmarish visit to the dentist, a claustrophobic visit in a water tank, or various bits of body horror and hallucinations. I was reminded of Crimson Peak in that this is a simple gothic horror story told lavishly—except that Guillermo del Toro knows how to layer depths and ensure that the details are consistent, neither of which are particularly solid in this case. A Cure for Wellness does get a marginal recommendation, but mostly for its first half and mostly for horror fans—it doesn’t quite manage to go farther than that for other audiences.